JJ Maybank Imagines

[angst] Cheater

Imagine type: angst

Recommended song: i hate you, i love you by: Gnash (feat. Olivia O' Brien)

Warning: none

———

"JJ, you don't have to worry about that," you sighed patiently, crossing your arms. You loved that he cared what your parents thought of him, but he was so sure they hated him. You'd been humouring him all day, assuring him he was quite wrong. 

But JJ wouldn't hear it. "You should've seen the way your dad was looking at me," he persisted, urging you to see it the way he saw it. 

You sunk into the couch, JJ's footsteps echoing throughout the Chateau as he paced back and forth, back and forth . . .

You let a smile through the cracks of your lips, "He looks at everyone like that, JJ. I'm telling you to trust me, they like you."

When he refused to respond, you got up from the couch, hand touching his arm gently to stop his pacing. 

You frowned. "It might take some time, but I know they want what's best for me and what's best for me is you," you said softly, arms wrapping around the frame of his shoulders. You weren't completely certain what else could be said. 

"I know," JJ said too quickly, his tone rash and it surprised you. Your arms dropped to the hem of your shirt, twisting the fabric in between your fingers. 

Before you were given the chance to respond, you were interrupted. "Did you guys finally make up?" John B asked warily. You couldn't see him, but you could hear the sound of the screen door. He slipped inside, making eye contact with you and raising his eyebrows in a way that demanded an answer. 

Everything must have looked fine between the two of you because when you told him things were fine, he didn't question it. Looking at JJ, you weren't sure he felt the same uneasiness you did, and if he did, he certainly didn't show it. 

JJ walked away from you, busying himself with something in the kitchen and you excused yourself, deciding he might be more partial to talking after some time apart. 

———

"Rise and shine," you drawled, already at the Chateau by 11 the next morning.  

John B was barely awake, limbs taking up every square inch of his sofa bed. You heard the brush of his skin against the sheets as he sat up, forcing his eyes open. 

His voice had its signature morning rasp and he looked incredibly distraught. "Did you leave yesterday?"

You furrowed your eyebrows, suppressing a wounded pride, "You said goodbye to me as I was walking out the door yesterday," you chuckled, placing a cooler down on the counter.

He shook his head, "But you were with JJ last night." At this point, he was standing up, stretching and looking for an empty cup for water. 

"Have you taken your vitamins today?" You asked, but John B was frustrated at the fact that you weren't as bothered as he was. 

"I heard you with JJ last night, [y/n]," he insisted, gesturing to JJ's room, pushing past his own discomfort. "You can't tell me you don't remember that, it went on for, like, half an hour."

You weren't with JJ last night, you knew that much, but you wished this was a mistake or a very heavy fault in terms of your memory because, honestly, that would hurt less than whatever you suspected was going on. 

"I don't know what you're talking about," you said, every syllable getting caught at the back of your throat and then again at the tip of your tongue. Your brain was ahead, but your heart needed time, it hadn't caught up yet, and unless you heard the words straight out of John B's mouth, you weren't allowing yourself to indulge.